


A Dance in the Cove

by Paresse



Category: Dappervolk (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Denial of Feelings, Happy Ending, I don't have the patience to write a full slow burn, It haunts me, Mutual Pining, Other, Slow Dancing, implied slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2020-07-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25254784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paresse/pseuds/Paresse
Summary: What on this planet has this world-hopper so obsessed with him? This strange, mothlike world-hopper known only as 'The Captain' continues to visit every day and asks if it can help. The Officiator can't understand it. It has access to Aviar Cove now, why does it insist on cozying up to him further? What else does it have to gain?He's invited to a festival of sorts at the cove and, of course, he's obligated to come. But when the gold-masked Captain asks him to dance, he finds his hand in its without thinking.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	A Dance in the Cove

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm Paresse #31798 over on Dappervolk, my avatar is the Captain! It uses it/its pronouns!

"The Officiator is here." Pellier's soft voice breaks through the Captain's thoughts, and its antennae immediately perk up. A soft laugh, "Well don't look too disappointed." The moth snaps its wings at him. He's certain it's pouting behind that mask. The Captain turns its head, tilted to one side to listen.

"He's sitting across the way. By the gazebo. Can you make it on your own?"

The Captain snorts, "Of course I can! I made it through the mines just fine like this, I can navigate a measly crowd!" With a flourish of a fluffed hand, it follows Pellier's vague direction, navigating with relative ease, just as it had said.

Pellier shakes his head.

* * *

The music that drifts through the Cove is soothing. His golden eyes slide gently shut as he listens to it, a smooth transition from the last song that played. A soft tapping to his left. He peers an eye open, only to open them both in mild surprise, "Captain." He chuckles, "I didn't expect to see you here; I thought it would be too boring for adventurous types like you." 

The Captain has a hand on one of the nearby pillars, claws tapping its white surface. The fabled pirate gives a hearty laugh at that, "Oh, come now, even the most seasoned pirate can't handle storms every day. We treasure the calm sea, so rarely does it grace us." Its manner is exaggerated, an over-enthusiastic telling of a dramatic story. 

The Officiator laughs quietly under his breath, "So I see." He's about to say something else when he's interrupted by the Captain's hand, held out in front of him.

"So, Officiator, may I have this dance with a beautiful sun over these still waters?"

His face flushes a faint violet. A sun? Him? His mouth opens to respond, shuts, and then opens again, "You want a dance? With me?"

"I did say _your_ title, unless there's another officiator around here I don't know of." The fluffed hair of the Captain almost puffs with its laugh.

His hand moves nearly of its own accord to slip into the moth's. He feels a regret sink into his chest as the Captain pulls him up out of his seat. He hasn't danced in so long--

But the Captain gives him hardly any time to think about his anxiety. Especially as one hand pushes back his hood and crest. He lets it happen, much to his own surprise.

The music picks up and the Captain sweeps him into the dance. His first steps are clumsy, unsure. They're being watched, but he doesn't dare look out from beneath the curtain of white and silver hair as it spins him gently across the dance floor. He looks up at the Captain, into the blank, gold eye of the mask. But a gentle chuckle from its throat soothes him in place of its gaze.

When had he become this complacent to the Captain's actions? His body relaxes into the steps little by little, his old body remembering where to place his feet with each note. A little laugh escapes him at some point, he's not sure when. In the space between them, his face lights up, wrinkles deepening as he smiles. He can't bring himself to care about it.

The music comes to a gentle, easy close... and their dance comes to a soft stop. He's lost in a gentle haze before he hears someone gently clapping. His shoulders hike up in his embarrassment as a few others join in and he covers his face with one clawed hand. But the smile refuses to leave. His other hand is gently tugged.

* * *

"Let's get a little air after that, hm?" The Captain asks, heart still racing. It hopes-- yes, the Officiator nods. It grins behind its mask and gently pulls him away from the dancefloor, leading him by memory to a little balcony overlooking the cove itself, away from the main festivities. It reluctantly lets go and reaches a hand out to find the balcony railing, leaning against it. Its smile won't go away...

Until the silence between them drags on a little longer than it expected. It tilts its head over its shoulder, feeling the Officiator's gaze burn into its back.

"You alright...?" It hesitantly asks. Had it done something wrong?

It can hear the Officiator swallow hard. A pause follows, and then, "What is it you want?"

It stands up off the balcony and turns its full body to face his voice, "I don't understand..."

"You have access to the cove, you've got a guild started and flourishing... what do you have to gain from this...?"

It clicks in the Captain's head, "You... You think I'm doing this because I want something from you?"

The sound of cloth shifting, "It has to be..."

"... Is it really so wild a concept that I'm courting you, Officiator?" It asks bluntly.

"Is it so 'wild' that I'm paranoid about being used?" A harsh snap back. Anger boils under the surface of the Captain's throat.

_Just how many people have used the Officiator like this?_

Its grip tightens on the railing.

"I don't understand why you'd court an old dark elf anyway. There are hundreds of prettier faces than I."

_Too many._

"...I hope you don't honestly think I can see through this thing." The Captain reaches a hand up to its mask. There's a moment of hesitation... and then it pulls it off slowly.

* * *

The Officiator is caught off guard. Of course, the Captain can't see through its mask, but why would it willingly blind itself-- 

The mask comes off and he's frozen in place. One foggy white eye stares blankly in his general direction. The other eye is non-existent, a gaping, scarred hole in the Captain's head.

It's _completely_ blind. 

"I had no idea you were a dark elf until just now. All I know is your voice and the way you care for people, care for your position, and how you want to help people. Even despite people who used you for it, so now I've learned." It folds its hands in front of it, "You don't sound that old to me, for the record. Just out of your prime, maybe."

He feels his cheeks heat up violet again, "You flatter me. I'm much older. Considered a senior by my people."

The Captain gives a soft hum, and the Officiator lets his eyes peel away from the eye and lack thereof to the rest of its face. Dusted with the fur of the rest of it, except for a soft blue peeking through on its cheeks, around its eyes, and on its lips. The faint shimmer of stars betrays it as a Galactic. He'd never realized, assumed the Captain was an Animal... but most of all he notices the gentle creasing of age in its face.

"Just out of your prime, hm?" He can't help the little twitch of one corner of his lip. A rolling chuckle rewards him and it nods. A strangely comfortable pause follows.

Then, "Well, you've seen my face now... May I see yours?"

"Huh?" It catches the Officiator off guard. How could the Captain see his face, it was blind...

"I see in two ways; By sound and by touch. I can't exactly hear your face, so..." It sets its mask aside and gently holds out its hands.

"Oh." He feels silly, but gently takes the moth's hands and lifts them to his face in silent permission. He watches the Captain's face as it traces the edges of his. It's so very... normal under the mask. Somehow he'd taken to almost listening to Pai and Oran's wild theories about what was under the Captain's mask. It was... relieving. Seeing for himself that the Captain was a person like any other.

One of the Captain's thumb claws gently traces the curve of his nose, a finger over his cheekbone.

"What color is your skin...?"

"Ah... Dark blue. Darker in spots. Turns purple at the edges sometimes."

"When you blush?"

As if to summon the devil, his cheek heat up and a sly smirk crosses the Captain's face, "Yes, you absolute piece of work." He mutters to it.

A knuckle passes over one of his eyes and he closes both to let it feel.

"Your eyes?"

"Gold." He answers this time without hesitation.

Claws trace his hairline, then pushes his longer bangs behind one ear, "Your hair?"

"Old and grey."

"I prefer the word silver."

The Officiator gives a huff, "Let me take some pride in my age."

"Fine." The Captain pulls its hands away, "Old and silver, then."

His skin buzzes like lightning where the Captain's hands were before. He's certain his heart is making his robes move it's beating so hard.

"You're gorgeous..." The words hang in the air like a droplet on a spider's web. "...so do you accept?"

"Your courting?"

The Captain makes an affirming hum.

"...Yes, I think I do."


End file.
